


beneath a tree with lembas crumbs

by the_secret_wordsmith



Series: Middle-earth Drabbles [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Beleg is adorable, Cute, Drabble, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Friends to Lovers, Lembas (Tolkien), Love Confessions, M/M, Túrin is a hot mess, lembas bread as a romantic instigator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_secret_wordsmith/pseuds/the_secret_wordsmith
Summary: XxXxXxXBeleg crushing on Túrin, who is a hot mess. They are underneath a tree somewhere in Beleriand being gay and happy because they deserve some joy, and Eru knows there's not enough of it in canon!XxXxXxX





	beneath a tree with lembas crumbs

The sun was beginning to rise over the far hills and Túrin lay beside him on the damp ground, snoring slightly as he slept. Beleg stared down at his friend, his eyes following the line of his jaw, the angle of his nose, the curve of his lips.

In the tree above them he could hear the chittering of small birds as they flitted about, branch to branch, readying themselves for the day. Beleg sighed: he would have to rouse Túrin soon for they could not stay here long; they had a long journey ahead of them before they returned to Doriath and home.

“A few more moments,” Beleg said softly to himself, looking down at his friend with a sweet tenderness in his eyes.

Túrin’s hand twitched slightly in his sleep and Beleg reacted instinctively, reaching out to take the man’s slender fingers in his own. His heart beat faster and his breath hitched a little as he felt how warm his friend’s hands were. Smooth skin against smooth skin. Warm flesh brushing warm flesh. Beleg stroked the arch of Túrin’s prominent knuckles and slipped over the top of his hand to rest his fingers on the impossibly delicate bones of his wrist.

He sucked in a breath and licked his bottom lip, feeling such a strong longing for the foolish mortal; such a desire for the emotional man lying before him.

Túrin. Túrin. Túrin.

Túrin and Beleg. Beleg and Túrin. Even their names sounded right said together, over and over as he so often did in his head.

He wanted to lean down, to rest his cheek against Túrin’s chest and let his golden hair flow and mingle with Túrin’s dark curled locks.

The cracking of twigs startled Beleg from his fantasy and he spun round, crouched on his toes, to see a small deer staring at him bewildered. The noise had woken Túrin, who was startled out of his gentle sleep and reached for his blade instinctively.

“Just a deer,” Beleg said to him, falling back to sit on the ground again, long legs extending. Túrin relaxed and then settled himself, sitting up and leaning against the trunk of the tree.

“Morning,” he said and stifled a yawn, rubbing the stubble on his chin and taking a deep breath in. Beleg turned away, smiling softly as he rummaged in his pack.

“Here,” he said as he got to his feet, and handed his friend a piece of lembas bread, “We should start moving soon.”

Túrin nodded in response and took the bread.

“Thank you my friend,” he said, taking a bite. Mouth still full he looked inquiringly up at the elf. “And how were the stars last night sweet Beleg?”

Beleg’s heart beat faster at the endearment, his mouth slightly parted as he took in the sight of Túrin propped against a tree, with his hair splayed out in messy curls and tangles, crumbs of lembas bread on his collar.

“There was much beauty last night,” he said and bent down to wipe the crumbs off Túrin’s shirt. Túrin looked down in surprise as the elf touched his chest softly, whispering away the crumbs, his fingers fluttering lightly over the fabric.

He caught Beleg’s hand with his own, his fingers entwining quickly around his wrist, and then seemed momentarily shocked by his action. Túrin swallowed and frowned, the tops of his cheeks blooming with a red blush. Beleg had stopped breathing.

Moving slowly, as though afraid to startle a flock of birds, he sank down to his knees beside Túrin. Túrin, whose hand was still gripped firmly around his wrist.

“Forgive me Beleg,” Túrin said quickly, and let go of him, the blush seeming to deepen on his face. With his newly released hand Beleg touched the stubble on Túrin’s chin.

“I would forgive you anything Túrin,” Beleg said, his voice barely above a whisper but the look on Túrin’s face told him that he was hearing every word. “Any crime I would forgive you. Any mistake, any insult and any misplaced deed. I would forgive you. Anything.”

Túrin’s chest was rising and falling perceptibly, deep breaths and slow. His eyes were lowered, staring pointedly at Beleg’s other hand whilst the one on his chin moved slowly upwards to cup his reddening cheek.

“But there is nothing to forgive,” Beleg continued, “For you have done me no wrong. When you touch me Túrin, it is the greatest right I have ever felt.”

Túrin lifted his gaze and his grey eyes met Beleg’s, and without a second thought the elf leant forward, closing the gap between them, his hand moving around Túrin’s head to tangle in his wild hair.

Their lips touched and he felt the warm air from a gentle sigh slip between them. Then Túrin’s hands were reaching out and pulling him closer and his hand was on his chest, where missed breadcrumbs clung ignored and forgotten.

Beleg pulled back to let Túrin breathe and he felt a heat sinking deep as he looked upon his friend. Túrin’s eyes were still closed and his lips slightly parted. There was a slight crease on his forehead but his hands were holding on tightly to the elf.

“Beleg,” he said and his voice was rough and cracked. Beleg’s grip tightened in his hair as he stared at the man he loved before him. Túrin opened his eyes and looked at Beleg in awe, swallowing slightly as his gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes, then back to his lips again.

“I love you Túrin,” Beleg said and Túrin let out a soft moan.

“Oh Beleg,” he said quietly and then the most wonderful thing happened. He broke into a beautiful smile. Beleg felt his own face mimic it and soon they were both beaming, staring into one another’s eyes.

Then Túrin kissed him, with more force this time, and Beleg wondered at the passion of him, the raw energy. He pushed him gently and Beleg lay back, making sure to pull Túrin with him as he lay down on the damp forest floor.

Túrin didn’t break the kiss, raising his hands to touch his face, his hair, his neck. Beleg kissed back fervently, his own hand still intrinsically knotted in the man’s tangled locks whilst the other roamed over his back. Then Túrin pulled back and Beleg swallowed: the look in Túrin’s eyes was powerful and intoxicating.

“You are mine Beleg,” he said brokenly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Túrin,” Beleg said but he was cut off as their lips met again but not for long. Túrin moved quickly to his neck to kiss and lick and gently nibble at the soft skin by his ear. The moan he let out surprised himself even though he knew how much he had longed for such a moment.

“Ah you,” Túrin murmured, his mouth so close to his ear, “How can a man resist such sounds?” 

Beleg chuckled then slid his other hand into Túrin’s hair so that he held the man’s head in both his hands.

“Oh Túrin,” he said, and pulled him in for another lingering kiss. They pulled back after several minutes and Túrin rested his forehead against Beleg’s.

“Well now,” the man said and let out a shaky laugh. “The birds have had quite a show.” He sat back, moving off Beleg so he could sit up.

“Forgive me, Túrin,” Beleg said gently, concerned that his friend might be uncomfortable, “I have loved you and longed for you for many moons now and…”

“Hush Beleg,” Túrin said, and smiled, “There is nothing to forgive and I would forgive you anything. As you would me.” He took a breath and smiled, “I did not think an elf could find anything beautiful about a mortal.”

“You’re the most beautiful things there is,” Beleg said quickly and Túrin blushed. He loved that. He would never get enough of it, the way two points on his cheek would tinge pink and then blossom and bloom till both his cheeks were fiercely red.

“I did not…” Túrin trailed off, “I wanted you… oh how I love you, but I was scared I would hurt you or disgust you and having you in my life in anyway is just…” He smiled and slid closer to Beleg to slip a soft hand against his cheek, “It’s everything.”

Beleg felt his heart pounding as he looked at the man before him. He could think of no words which is unusual for an elf, and his emotions were running away with him, running away to fall in the arms of a fierce and sensitive mortal man.

He pulled Túrin against him and they fell backwards to lie sprawled on the earth, arms entwined and legs entwined; hair of gold sheets and hair of wild curls mixing on the leaf-strewn ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr @thesecretwordsmith. I can't be the only one shipping Beleg and Túrin can I? Comments and kudos are very much appreciated, and have a nice day :)


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